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The date was Aug. 28, 1963. The man was the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., and he had just delivered his "I Have a Dream" speech from the Lincoln Memorial to a crowd of hundreds of thousands. It was the March on Washington, one of the largest political rallies in American history and a turning point in the civil rights movement.

Frankel, now a professor of social work at the University of North Carolina Wilmington, was then a 19-year-old college student from Champaign-Urbana, Ill. With hundreds of others, he had caught a train from Chicago to join the march, and at that moment, he was mesmerized by King's oratory and message.

Fifty years later, other area residents still remember joining in the march.

"There we were, in a maze of people," recalled Joyce Jones, "of all colors, all denominations, walking along, celebrating."

Jones was 13 years old and already a local activist in the civil rights movement.

"We called it the Struggle," she recalled.

She was recruited by her friend Katherine Jervay, daughter of Wilmington Journal publisher Thomas C. Jervay.

"We met in churches in the area," Jones said. "The NAACP and CORE (Congress of Racial Equality) were training us how to conduct peaceful marches and demonstrations."

Jones recalled that her mother was not happy with her being so active so young. When it came time for the March, however, her mother went along with her. Six chartered buses departed Wilmington for the long drive to Washington, she recalled.

"We didn't stop much on the way," she said.

The son of a college professor, Frankel had been a Freedom Rider and had gone on bus rides to Alabama. Later, he would be in Selma, Ala., the week after local police officers attacked civil rights marchers on the Edmund Pettus Bridge on "Bloody Sunday," March 5, 1965. Marching for civil rights came natural to him.

"There were so many of us, they chartered a whole train from Chicago," Frankel recalled. "I didn't spend the night. We left very early in the morning and got back late that night."

Estimates put the crowd on the National Mall at between 300,000 and 400,000, rallied by a loose alliance of civil rights, labor and religious groups. Incredibly, among the throng, Frankel ran into his cousin from Brooklyn, N.Y.

"What were the chances of that?" he asked.

Jones recalled the large number of celebrities who joined ordinary marchers that day. For much of the way to the Lincoln Memorial, the singer-actress Lena Horne held one of Jones' hands; her mother held the other.

Observers guessed that three-fourths of the marchers were black, the rest from other races and ethnic groups.

"But I never felt like I was a minority," Frankel said. "There wasn't a sense of black or white. We were all joyously there, doing something right."

Jones was able to get close enough to hear King's speech.

"That was something you never forget," she said.

She was also impressed with the remarks of A. Philip Randolph, head of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters and one of the march's key organizers.

A part-time folk singer, Frankel was so moved by the march that he wrote a song about it. He sang it for some time afterward in coffeehouses around campus in Champaign.

"It helped pay my way through college," he said, chuckling.

Jones held on to her idealism, became a minister and is now pastor of Life Changing Ministries in Wilmington.

"I'm proud to have been a part of it," she said. "Young people need to know that the Movement isn't over. It's just as important to stand up now as it was then."

<p>"If that man had told us to rush the White House right then," said Arthur J. Frankel, "we would have done it."</p><p>The date was Aug. 28, 1963. The man was the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., and he had just delivered his "I Have a Dream" speech from the Lincoln Memorial to a crowd of hundreds of thousands. It was the March on Washington, one of the largest political rallies in American history and a turning point in the civil rights movement.</p><p>Frankel, now a professor of social work at the University of North Carolina Wilmington, was then a 19-year-old college student from Champaign-Urbana, Ill. With hundreds of others, he had caught a train from Chicago to join the march, and at that moment, he was mesmerized by King's oratory and message.</p><p>Fifty years later, other area residents still remember joining in the march.</p><p>"There we were, in a maze of people," recalled Joyce Jones, "of all colors, all denominations, walking along, celebrating."</p><p>Jones was 13 years old and already a local activist in the civil rights movement. </p><p>"We called it the Struggle," she recalled. </p><p>She was recruited by her friend Katherine Jervay, daughter of Wilmington Journal publisher Thomas C. Jervay.</p><p>"We met in churches in the area," Jones said. "The NAACP and CORE (Congress of Racial Equality) were training us how to conduct peaceful marches and demonstrations."</p><p>Jones recalled that her mother was not happy with her being so active so young. When it came time for the March, however, her mother went along with her. Six chartered buses departed Wilmington for the long drive to Washington, she recalled. </p><p>"We didn't stop much on the way," she said.</p><p>The son of a college professor, Frankel had been a Freedom Rider and had gone on bus rides to Alabama. Later, he would be in Selma, Ala., the week after local police officers attacked civil rights marchers on the Edmund Pettus Bridge on "Bloody Sunday," March 5, 1965. Marching for civil rights came natural to him.</p><p>"There were so many of us, they chartered a whole train from Chicago," Frankel recalled. "I didn't spend the night. We left very early in the morning and got back late that night."</p><p>Estimates put the crowd on the National Mall at between 300,000 and 400,000, rallied by a loose alliance of civil rights, labor and religious groups. Incredibly, among the throng, Frankel ran into his cousin from Brooklyn, N.Y. </p><p>"What were the chances of that?" he asked.</p><p>Jones recalled the large number of celebrities who joined ordinary marchers that day. For much of the way to the Lincoln Memorial, the singer-actress Lena Horne held one of Jones' hands; her mother held the other.</p><p>Observers guessed that three-fourths of the marchers were black, the rest from other races and ethnic groups. </p><p>"But I never felt like I was a minority," Frankel said. "There wasn't a sense of black or white. We were all joyously there, doing something right."</p><p>Jones was able to get close enough to hear King's speech. </p><p>"That was something you never forget," she said. </p><p>She was also impressed with the remarks of A. Philip Randolph, head of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters and one of the march's key organizers.</p><p>A part-time folk singer, Frankel was so moved by the march that he wrote a song about it. He sang it for some time afterward in coffeehouses around campus in Champaign.</p><p>"It helped pay my way through college," he said, chuckling.</p><p>Jones held on to her idealism, became a minister and is now pastor of Life Changing Ministries in Wilmington.</p><p>"I'm proud to have been a part of it," she said. "Young people need to know that the Movement isn't over. It's just as important to stand up now as it was then."</p><p>"That was a magic era," Frankel said. "I really miss it."</p><p><a href="http://www.starnewsonline.com/section/topic14"><b>Ben Steelman</b></a>: 343-2208</p>